It's in black and white

This koo business is starting to confuse me and, I'll have you know, I'm not easily confused. You see my humans went to see a koo so I thought they were bringing back a friend for Mr Indy. But this koo is black and white.
Apparently it's a Ger Man as well and not a kuh at all. Scamp, my friend from outside who fancies me said "ceci n'est-pas un kuh" because she's really brainy. Thing is, if it's a Ger Man then Mr Indy will like it because he it will remind of him of Anita vet. Then again it's black and white like evil Hitler cat so Mr Indy will have to fight it! What's a little cat to think?

Credit crunch?

Are Mr Man and Mr Woman getting desperate? I've heard them talking about the credit crunch, but I think that sounds biscuity and delicious, and it makes me hungry. I hope they're not going to run out of money. I've heard Mr Man threatening to buy cheap Tesco cat food, but Mr Woman won't let him.




He did pimp me on teh interwebs though. And now he's pimping Deshar! He'll never pimp Mr Indy, though. He's not flexible enough to turn upside down.

I am not a koo!

Great! Get stuck outside all night only to find out that A.D.D. cat has me confused with a koo. He has of course never seen a koo. In fact if he got even one glimpse of a koo he would be straight on the case beneath the bed and start meeping at me to deal with it. He's all big and brave until something shows up and then it's "Mister Indy! Mister Indy! Get Hitler cat! Beat up Stubbs! Go frighten the barker!"

Don't get a moment to breathe around here.

Flat out!

Mr Man says Mr Woman has been pimping me around teh intertoobz at something called "Upside down kitties." Mr Man says that I have to earn my keep and if the only way I can bring home a crust is by lying on my back then that's how it'll have to be. Don't really understand why I should bring home a crust. I have brought home pork chops, blue sponges and silver balls in the past but they never seemed to want one of them.

Humans are strange sometimes.

I guess I better tell you that they took Mr Indy away in the pink cage again! Nooooo! Luckily they brought him back. He didn't say much afterwards but then he never does. His breathing has been a little funny though. Apparently Mr Woman took some pictures of Mister Indy in Dundy. I could have sworn he was in the house all along though.

Supercat!

This is me being faster than a speeding bullet and able to leap small objects in a single bound!

Mister indy!

What have you been doing? I don't know what to think anymore.

Carpet muncher

Tweet this way!

I've been getting loads of new furry friends on twitter. I don't exactly know what twitter is though Mr Desh once explained that it's a place where lots of sock puppets hang out so I would fit right in. Mr Desh liked saying brainy things like that that made my head spin. He could even do hay-koo. Apparently Mr Woman says hello to koos too whenever she goes to Dundy. I've never seen a koo in real life, unless you count Mr Indy of course. He doesn't have horns but otherwise he's quite close.

I think I must have lots of friends because I'm beautiful and talented and modest. See, that's me being fierce in order to scare off nasty black and white cat. Of course he wasn't actually there, or anywhere near there, at the time but that was just lucky for him.

Oh, Mr Man said I need to explain what I mean about Mr Indy and koos so I took this photo to help explain.
Anyway, I just wanted to say that I know I'm fabulous but it's always nice to hear it and, while you're at it, tell my humans that they keep accidentally locking me into the living room at night. I wouldn't mind but Mr Indy does snore something awful and sometimes he goes a bit mad and attacks the carpet. He says there's a monster beneath it but that's only because he's trying to scare me and I don't scare easily. I ain't afraid of no ghost.

Mother?!

Mr Woman's gone strange. I think she might be my mother after all. She's very furry and she doesn't like cold any more than I do. Don't know where her tail is though. Maybe she lost some of it because Mr Man often says that she's a great bit bit of tail. Wonder what happened to the rest of it?

You gotta be kiddin' me.

So right, here's the skinny. The cat diseases scam backfired. Didn't get back to my fan club at the Dick Vet and now I'm having to beg for food. Gah! I keep them safe from Hitler cat and what do I get for my pains?

Anyway, speaking of food, you'll never guess what I overheard Ms Scab Remover saying yesterday? "The stair oyds'll make him hungry."

"Make him hungry"? "Make him hungry!" What on earth do they want to make me even hungrier for? I'm already hungrier than a black hole and I'm not talking about the one at the Chubster's rear end which, I'll have you know, ain't never seen no pixie dust. There's a reason I've banned him from the indoor facilities.

But back to the point? What kind of cruel, infeline creatures want to starve me? Even when they do get round to feeding me I get seasoning on the food. I sure as fuzz don't know what's in those powders but I tell you what, if they ever try to feed me "Waitrose Lamb with Mint Sauce" again I'll have something to say. I don't want no fancy, foreign rubbish. Just give me meat and jelly and lots of it. I got 2 months on the mean streets of Musselburgh to make up for and an Assma habit to maintain.

Today

Today I will be mostly sleeping on the nubbles.

Bugger

Catdiseases.com came up with the goodies - assma. Don't exactly know what it is but apparently if I threw up on the duvet and gasped a lot then I could have assma. Easy! I did have to skip breakfast and you don't know how hard that is but when love calls you gotta make sacrifices.
And I thought it had worked.
The humans got worried and the pink cat carrier came out. The chubster skidaddled - the little fella really don't like it - and I could see Fraulein Schwarz already. Soon I would be at the Dick Vet with my fan club. No chubster to pounce on me when I'm trying to get some shut-eye, no woman picking the scabs off my head and loads of people to come around and tell me how great I am and I could sit on meine Fraulein's lap as she called me Indy Boy. Oh I love it when she calls me Indy Boy.
Then it went wrong. The male simply picked up the carrier and took me to the nearby vet. No Dick Vet for me. Just some old fella with one of them cold things that they love to stick where the fur don't grow so plush. Brrr I hate that. Then another needle in the back of the neck and I'm sent back here to the chubster and his weird forward-pointing tail. There ain't no justice.

Iz limpin'

Am savin' mah energy for mah next big disease. Reckon I prob'ly need a big disease to get back to the vet school and the cute German vet who runs mah fan club. Went out tonight anyway, lookin' for Hitler Cat. Found him. Beat him up some, but he's a mean ole boy, is Hitler. Got a bit of a clobberin'. Things is different here from at the vet school. Vet school; I'da been fussed over by Anita an' Kerry. Here, I gets mah split paw dunked in a bowla water.



Iz bit sore. Iz limpin'.

Iz also kinda hungry.

I'm in love with a German film star

I miss my fan club. Ain't no one around here to talk in a German accent to me. The humans do their best by calling me "Indy boy" but it's just not the same and the chubster just meeps all day. I'm off to look at catdiseases.com to see what I can get next. Gotta get back to the Dick Vet.

Faster than a speeding bullet

I think I must be adopted because my mother can fly and I have superpowers too. I mean I can summon Mr Woman from anywhere on the planet and all the other cats around here are in awe of me because they all say I'm "special."

Exercising self-restraint

Mr Man keeps making me watch this video and "take notes."

Aw nuts!

One of these days I'm going to shove that camera somewhere that even a flash won't shine.

Just call me Mr Love

Stubbs

This is Stubbs. He's WEIRD!!!!1! He sits on my window sometimes but he doesn't have any friends. Except Scamp. He follows Scamp everywhere and yowls at anyone who comes close. And his eyes point in different directions. Mr Indy calls him "chubbs." Well, ok, I know Mr Indy can't speak but he mimes well. Sometimes he gets me and Stubbs' name confused and calls me "chubbs" as well but that's probably because he's not as in, ingelli, as smart as me.

Now what?

There's something strange in the little water world. Not exactly sure what to make of it but it sure has big fins.

Strange around here

You know, when you've been around the block a few times like I have then you've seen a few things. But I ain't never seen a brutha as weird as the little chubster. He's got the attention span of a flea and a mother complex you could float an aircraft carrier on and now he's obsessed with bugs. That and the cute little tortie down the road. Cute but seriously confused.

Anyway, I'm told that catblogging requires me to post a photo so here's one of my profile. Rather fetching if I say so myself.

My favourite!

I love my crikkitz! Every day when Mr Man feeds Rodney I rush up to him and remind him of how I saved Rodney from his flying accident and then Mr Woman says "go on, let him have a crikkit!" And Mr Man always does! Mr Man always does what Mr Woman tells him to. So then I get to chase and pounce and eat! Crikkitz are great fun! They're nearly as good as stix.

Lissen to me

My chubby lil buddy's been goin on about this blogging lark. Sez it's the best way to get food from the humans and he should know. That cat ain't starvin, if you catch my drift. Not like me. I need food. Gotta get mah biskits n meat. When you've been shaved in the unmentionables you get a mite chilly at nights and I needs me some central heatin.

Hang on, the chubster's squeakin down there again. Apparently I gotta tell the reader what's going down. Someone reads this? I wonder if they'll feed me if I look up hopefully at em. I'll try the silent approach, that usually works.

Warm and cozy

Here in my bag, I'm warm and cozy.

He's back!

Mr Indy came back home yesterday after spending ages seeing Dick the Vet and eating lots of Rock Pie. He hasn't said much about it but it must have been a wild holiday because he's had his hair shaved funny, like an Indyan with a Mohican and seems to have had piercings done.

Hopefully now he'll start sharing his food with me again so that Mr Woman can't feed me those horrible "low fat" nibbles. Yuck.

Living on the frontline

Big Bob has a little problem it seems, cus, I got a note through the door today saying Big Bob's got fleeze!!!1! When I first got here I used to be scared of Big Bob and even called him Evil Bob because he would sit on MY window ledge and peer in at me. Now though I'm not scared any more even though he yowls a lot and has the biggest tummy I've ever seen. Even bigger than Brown Bear's tummy. Big Bob likes to lie on his back and then attack his own tummy sometimes, sort of like Mr Indy with his tail. Mr Indy's tail is so fluffy that every now and then it startles him and he has to defend himself against it.

I hope Mr Indy isn't having so much fun at Dick the vet's place that he doesn't want to come him. I miss playing Marmalise with him. And now Mr Woman's disappeared too. I think she's gone back to flatland. There's no one here now but Mr Man and he's spending all his time drinking beer, scratching himself and belching. Maybe he has fleeeze!!!1! too. If that's what they do to you I hope I never have any. I don't like thinking about rude body bits.

Anyway, I have to go now and start shouting at Mr Man until he stops looking at teh interwebs and pays attention to me.

Desperate pussy cat?

This is Scamp cat on MY window ledge! I don't know what she's doing up there but she makes one heck of a racket and Mr Man keeps saying she "fancies" me. I know I am very fancy but that doesn't explain why she keeps hanging around and staring at me a lot. Mr Man keeps saying that she's "hot" and she's a "pussy cat" and then sniggering to himself. Well, stupid, I know she's a pussy cat and if she's hot she should cool down or something. Honestly, sometimes he's a bit into stating the obvious.

Anyway, rather oddly Mr Man was talking to her human a few days ago and said that I was "no good for her" as I had a "new tard." I didn't know I had a tard, let alone a new one. Perhaps it's in with my marbles, wherever they are.

Mr Woman says it's a shame as Scamp and I would have beautiful kittens. Mr Desh once explained about how to make kittens to me but it started to sound awful icky so I had to put my paws over my ears and start squeaking until he had finished. I wish Mr Desh was still around to explain about these things to me, especially now Mr Indy has gone away to see Dick the Vet where he keeps eating lots of pie.

Dick rings up every morning and says that Mr Indy is eating lots and living in an oxygen tent. Mr Indy gets all the fun. Since he's gone I've been trying to eats lot too but Mr Woman puts hardly any food down for me and it's gone in seconds. I think Scamp must be coming in and eating the rest. She must be a really hungry pussy cat. Now Mr Man's sniggering again. I'll never understand my humans.

Squeaking the blues

I haven't had much chance to blog recently because I was worried about Mr Indy. He hadn't been quite right after his last fight with evil Hitler cat. He stopped enjoying playing "Marmalise" and then he started letting me eat his breakfast when Mr Woman wasn't looking.

Then, the pink cage of doom came out and took him away. (I have to whisper in case it hears me.) The first two times Mr Indy came back and he looked upset but never said a word. (Indy never says a word, period, due to his muteness. Helpfully, Mr Man.) Then on Wednesday he didn't come back and no matter where I look and no matter how much I squeak, he won't come back. So now I'm really worried and Mr Woman has bought some "light" biscuits for me and Mr Man keeps looking at me when he mentions his "chub key." I don't know what it all means and I suspect that there's some kettles and pots around here.

Anyway, some nice person called Dick the Vet keeps calling and I think Mr Indy's gone there for a while. I did hear something about Pie of the Rocks which sounds like it might be quite tasty so maybe that's why he wasn't eating his food because he liked the special pie.

Still, I wish he would come home. I've spent two nights in a row telling Mr Man and Mr Woman that he hasn't come back but they're not very bright and it's tiring me out. Though Mr Man just came back and now I'm sure I can smell cat face somewhere. I like cat face. Makes me sleepy and happy. Must go and lie on some nubbles. I like nubbles.

Saving Mister Indy!

This is me hard at work providing intel for Mister Indy. As you can see, Evil Bob is invading. Mister Indy has his stealth suit on which is why he's invisible and he's depending on me to provide tactical support from back here.

In this next photo, I've moved to a better position to provide Mr Indy with the latest intelligence briefing.

Luckily my vigilance meant that Evil Bob's plans were thwarted. More next time.
Sorry about the delay but Mr Woman needed my attention. Anyway, after my hard work I retired to base camp to get some well-deserved R&R. Rather annoyingly, Mr Man insisted on taking photos.

Of course it was this point that I detected Evil Bob trying a flanking manoeuvre. Luckily for Mister Indy I had my catdar on full alert as you can see from this photo.

Thanks to my hard work, Evil Bob realised the game was up.

However, I was not going to rest on my laurels, no sireee, not me. When Ash is on the case, you can all sleep safe at night. No cat is going to evade my sensors.

Private Ash, signing off! Remember folks, be careful out there.

I'm gonna call him Mister Indy!!

This is Indy, he must be very, very tired because he was out for two whole nights! I was quite worried at first because I thought maybe he had gone to see Mr Desh or something but when he came back I realised the truth. You see Hitler cat hasn't been around for two days either so Mister Indy must have been away fighting him in big adventures.
Of course, Mister Indy has taken a vow of silence so I can only go by clues but there was this big ark thing in the back yard in the morning and even Evil Bob (who tried to get in through the bedroom window last night) looked a bit shaken. So I reckon I know what he's been doing and I'm going to laugh at Hitler cat next time I see him. (From a safe distance, especially if the window's closed. Really tight.)
First though some extra sleeping because I had two bonus breakfasts when Mister Indy came back this morning and I'm feeling a bit full.

My hero!

This is Indy. He's showing the evil, Hitler cat who is the boss even though the evil Hitler cat has two different lasers on! I'm standing on the window ledge cheering Indy on! He's my hero!

I is confused, but grateful

My humans. I wish they'd make up their minds where they want to be. First, I was 'down South', living with Mr Desh. Then Mr Desh disappeared one night and I was an only cat. I didn't like that much, but I did get a lot more treats.

Then, they put me in a car and I have a scary ride to somewhere colder and wetter, with Unkle Sydney. I like Unkle Syd. He liked me pouncing on him and helping him to eat his tuna. I liked his tuna so much I got bigger. Then, just when I got brave enough to thump Unkle Sydney properly, they moved me again. Now I live in a flat. A flat what? I don't really understand. But there's lots of new cats around here. They're all bigger than me. There's Hitler Cat, but if I talk about him he might invade, so I won't say his name. Then there's Bob. Mr Woman thinks Bob might be the Evil Bob from Twin Peaks. Don't know what she's talking about though. This is Bob.



But yesterday they moved another cat in with me!!!1! Another cat!!!1! I'm not an only cat anymore. Do I like this? I don't know really. New Cat - sometimes he's called Basil, sometimes Baz and sometimes Indy. Wish my humans would make up their minds! But New Cat squared up to Bob. I did too. Mr Woman said I was like Brave Sir Robin. She said there was a song about Brave Sir Robin. Apparently he knows someone called Sir Kasm.



This is New Cat. I think I might like him. But he is a bit pretty and fluffy. Is he prettier and fluffier than me?

Hang on a minute!

What's going on here then? I'm so discombulated by this that I don't have time for a photo.

THIS. IS. NOT. RIGHT!!!

I'M THE PRETTY ONE AROUND HERE!

I'M THE FLUFFY ONE!!!

AND WHY DOES MY FOOD KEEP DISAPPEARING??!!1!! TURN MY BACK FOR A MINUTE AND IT'S GONE!!!

My pronouncements

Well Mr Man says that we have sacrificed a Virgin in order to get teh internetz back. Don't know exactly what that means but Mr Desh once said that I was a virgin and always would be. I don't want to be sacrificed though. I'm too young and pretty for that.

I've also decided that I need to change the blog name. I was going to call it "Ash's sparkly blog of fluffy prettiness" but Mr Desh cuffed me from beyond the bridge so I've decided to call it "Not Just Ash & Deshar" instead. It's a bit boring I know. Thing is, Mr Woman keeps going on about some one called Basil who's apparently very fluffy. I've never seen a fluffy human before. Except when Mr Man doesn't get clipped for more than two weeks because then he looks like something Mr Woman calls a "bo-ho."

Those are my thoughts for the day. Now I need to look for tuna. Ever since I left Uncle Sydney behind I haven't been able to share his tuna. It's not right when a cat as pretty as me doesn't get 2nd breakfast.

I wonder if he misses me?

This is my last photo of Uncle Sydney. We had 10 weeks of all sorts of fun together. We shared his food and played lots and lots of kill uncle Sydney - his favourite game! But a few days ago Mr Man and Mr Woman went away in the morning and these STRANGE humans came in the door and said hello to "Sidders." I thought it was only me who could call him that. It was very worrying because I thought that maybe my humans had run off and abandoned me!!! I kept wishing Mr Desh was there to tell me what to do. Luckily they came back and put me in the scary pink cage.

Now I'm a morningside cat. Don't really know what that means but apparently only very, very posh cats live here. Except for Hitler cat. I thought he was going to be my friend because he looked just like Uncle Sydney. Hitler cat is evil though. He invaded my bedroom yesterday and made me hide beneath the bed. Even big, furry Bob who comes and sniffs at my front door sometimes doesn't like Hitler cat.

Oh, Mr Man says I have to finish this quickly before the Why-fy police lock him up. But Mr Woman's been talking about someone called Basil who is going to be my friend. I've never had a friend called Basil before. I'll have to tell you more when I find out.

In trouble now

 

Uh oh Brown Bear has told me off for not blogging enough which isn't fair because it's all Mr Man's fault. Mr Man broke teh internets and made me move to Morningside where there's no Uncle Sidney for me to play with then kept me prisoner inside for hours and hours and hours. Mr Woman was nice though and let me go out.

I like out. Except.

Hitler cat.

Hitler cat is mean and keeps calling me Poland even though my name is Ash.

Anyway, I have to type in small letters because apparently Mr Man's borrowing someone's why-fy, whatever that is and it could go down any moment. So I'm squeaking at him (Mr Man takes dictation) really quickly in case Brown bear tells me off again.

Hoots

Uncle Sydney hoots quite often. Usually when he wants tuna or ham. Uncle Sydney always wants tuna or ham. I like living with Uncle Sydney, even though he's always hitting me, because he likes sharing his tuna and ham with me so I get lots more than I ever did before.

I wonder if Uncle Sydney's really an owl cat. Owlcats hoot and are always bad tempered, at least they look bad tempered. I haven't seen Uncle Sydney fly. He did jump a little bit once but he broke the floor when he landed and made all the dogs in the area bark.

Mother! What happened?!?